


Let This Rain Pour

by rabbitxheart



Series: Sterek Week 2016 [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 15:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8406262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabbitxheart/pseuds/rabbitxheart
Summary: "What are you doing here? This is private prop-" Derek stops in his tracks, staring at the young boy sitting against a tree, clutching another boy in his arms. Despite the cold air outside and the shivers wracking his body, his jacket is wrapped around torso of the boy in his lap and his plaid shirt draped over his legs like a blanket. He can't see the face of the other, but the smell of death is different here, newer than the one lingering over the woods from Lau-From last night.It also smells like werewolf, exactly like the one from last night. The son of a bitch is already biting teenagers. Children.





	

"What are you doing here? This is private prop-" Derek stops in his tracks, staring at the young boy sitting against a tree, clutching another boy in his arms. Despite the cold air outside and the shivers wracking his body, his jacket is wrapped around torso of the boy in his lap and his plaid shirt draped over his legs like a blanket. He can't see the face of the other, but the smell of death is different here, newer than the one lingering over the woods from Lau-

From last night.

It also smells like werewolf, _exactly_ like the one from last night. The son of a bitch is already biting teenagers. _Children_. This kid can't stay out here much longer, it's a miracle he hasn't been attacked as it is.

“He's been here all night,” the boy says, tears streaming down his face. “He's so cold, he must have been freezing.” Derek remembers Paige's skin nearly searing hot against his, how much pain she'd been in. He wishes he could say it had been quick, but...

“We have to call somebody, we need to get out of here.”

“Nononono, I can't leave Scott, I can't,” the boy starts sobbing, dragging the body closer and away from Derek, panic written all over his face. “I can't leave him again. Oh God, this is all my fault.”

“Okay. I'll call someone and we'll wait here with him,” Derek tries, and he nods, still clutching Scott tightly to him. “Hey, look at me,” Derek asks, softer. Big brown eyes look up at him for the first time, red and teary. “This isn’t your fault. It’s not.”

Derek takes his jacket off, drapes it around his shoulders, and pulls out his phone to call 911, keeping watch in case the alpha comes back. The kid barely takes notice.

 

When the police arrive and the sheriff throws himself out of the cruiser and towards them, Derek braces himself for the fall and the handcuffs.

What he doesn't expect is for him to run past Derek, to the boys by the tree, and fall to his knees.

“Stiles, Stiles, what happened?”

“I lied, I lied. Dad, I'm so sorry,” Stiles wails and still refuses to let go of Scott. The sheriff tries taking Scott's pulse, but from the look of his face, he knows he's not going to find one. Derek feels like vomiting or, even worse, crying. He did the exact same things, just hours ago.

 “Sir?” Says a young woman stepping out of the second car and pulling Derek out of thoughts he'd rather not get caught up in. “Could I take a statement from you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he agrees, and takes a last glance at Stiles and his father's failed attempts at getting him to let go.

 

It takes two days. Two damn days before he feels more than hears someone at the edge of the Hale property and just _knows_ it's the kid again.

“You really shouldn't be here,” Derek tries, but it has no force behind it, not when Stiles is slumped together on the porch right where Laura used to sit when they were younger. He sits down next to him, close but not close enough to touch, like last time.

“Thanks for letting me borrow it,” Stiles says and lays the leather jacket across his lap. Derek nods. “They say it was a wolf.” He shakes his head. “A fucking wolf.”

As much as Derek feels for the kid, he doesn't have time for this, doesn't have time to waste when there's a new alpha running around biting people, leaving pieces of Laura around the woods they used to play in as kids.

“I-”

“There are no wolves in California, did you know that? I don't know what it was that killed Scott, but it wasn't a wolf,” Stiles says and jumps down from the porch, makes his way to the blue Jeep parked by Laura's Camaro. He hesitates when he opens the door, looking at Derek for the first time. Opens his mouth, then seems to think better of it and climbs in, backing out like he's been driving since he was born, and is gone as quickly as he showed up.

 

Derek's barely back from getting food when the door swings open and a handful of hunters walk out of _his_ house, Chris Argent in the middle.

“Two dead, Derek. Both on Hale property, one of which I heard you were part of finding.”

 _Two_ , Derek corrects him mentally, putting his keys into his pockets, balancing the pizza carton and the soda easily while carrying his bag of clothes with the same arm. They all know what he is, there’s no need to pretend he’s not strong enough.

“I'm not your problem,” he sighs and walks past them, making his way up the stairs. They all smell of fear apart from Chris. Apparently he didn't find Derek enough of a threat to bring more experienced hunters, which is a relief. That means he knows better than thinking Derek’s really the alpha.

“Where is your sister?”

Of course. Derek stops, glaring at him over his shoulder.

“If she's out killing people we-”

“Which half of her?” Derek snarls, and Chris looks genuinely shocked. One of the hunters stinks more of shame than fear, unlike the remaining two that still look like they're about to piss their pants.

“What?”

“I said which half of her? The one at the coroner's or the one left out in the woods for me to find?”

Lowering his shotgun, Chris signals to the others to stand down.

“Then what are you doing _here_? Waiting for the alpha to come kill you, too?” He looks around the hallway, like he's afraid it'll come down on them all.

“Maybe,” he admits, and turns around the corner to his old room, where Laura had put a new mattress and a sleeping bag on his old iron bed frame and crawls in, almost hoping the goddamn alpha will come and finish his job while Derek is sleepin Derek finds that he really, really doesn't care either way.

 

He wakes up to the sound of tentative steps in the hall and before he knows it, he's jumped down the stairs to snarl the intruder in the face, pushing him up against the wall by his grandmother's old bureau.

“Oh shit!” Stiles swears as his back hits the wood and Derek's fangs are gone in an instant, hoping Stiles didn't see. Judging from his heartbeat, he saw everything. _Fuck_.

His heartbeat just keeps rising and his breath is coming in shorter and shorter pants and-

“Oh my God, was it _you_?” He looks absolutely horrified and Derek takes in the shirt and tie under his hands, the smell of salt and flower arrangements and _terror_ and backs quick as hell.

“It wasn't me, I swear.” Derek gives him space, lets him breathe.

“Why the fuck should I believe you?” Stiles wheezes and rubs his chest where Derek grabbed him. “Scott was killed by something with teeth and claws and fur and you have all three, _Jesus Christ_.”

“I came back to find my sister.” Derek retorts, trying his best not to let the wolf through, despite the sorrow vibrating through his bones. He wants to intimidate, run Stiles off, be alone, but he knows he can't. “We’re both werewolves.”

“No fucking shit!” He glares, seemingly more annoyed than surprised. Huh. “Where would she have g-” Stiles stops. “ _Oh_. That was her? Oh, fuck. Derek, I am so sorry.”

So he knows exactly who Derek is, then. It’s better the kid knows what he’s dealing with.

“There's an alpha out there, bigger and stronger than me. He killed Laura to become what he is and I can't beat him alone. I think he bit your friend to try and build a pack to get stronger, but sometimes the bite is rejected and the person dies.”

“Shit.” Stiles takes a moment to calm down, looking everywhere but Derek, then draws a deep breath and keeps speaking. “Look, if you're right, my dad is out hunting an alpha _werewolf_ thinking it's a mountain lion. Scott's mom can't look me in the eye.” His voice catches and he wipes his cheeks, looking more angry with himself than sad. Anger is good, anger is something Derek knows how to handle.

Anger is something he knows how to shape and use to his advantage. Theirs.

“I lost my mom, I lost my best friend. My dad is all I have left.”

“I don't know what to do,” Derek admits and slumps down on the stairs. “I don't know how to fix this.”

“Is there anywhere you can hide? I mean, you...” Stiles trails off, looking around. “You're not staying here, are you?”

“Where else am I going to stay?”

“Fucking hell,” Stiles begins and flops down onto the stairs next to him.

The click is small, probably not even audible to Stiles, but Derek hears it.

“What was that?” He leans down, pushes Stiles' leg out of the way.

“No way,” Stiles breathes as Derek's claws come out, pulling away the wood and revealing a opening in the staircase. “First werewolves and now secret compartments.” He hops down a step, pulling out a wooden box from the hollow step.

He's only seen the box once or twice, but it's well imprinted in his memory. He thought the Hale bestiary was gone.

“What is it?”

Derek flips the lid open.

“...a computer.” It's a brand new MacBook, too. Not something Laura would buy, who always swore over Derek's old Mac and praised Bill Gates. It powers up without problem.

“What the hell.”

“It's locked.”

Stiles grins, and it's not a happy smile. It's grief and anger, razor sharp and focused.

“I know someone who can fix that. We're gonna get this motherfucker, you hear me? We're gonna get him and we're gonna hack him into fucking pieces if that's what it takes.”

  


“Derek, you’re spacing out.” Stiles nudges his side. “You okay?”

Derek expected a quip about him being alpha, but Stiles looks at him with knit brows and smells like the kind of worry and affection Derek didn’t think he’d ever get to experience again, not for _him_.

“I’m not sure,” he admits truthfully. “Not yet.”

“You need to build a pack, right? Find betas?”

“I guess. I can’t-” he cuts off, shaking his head. “Not right now.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Stiles nods. “For now though, you’re staying at my house.”

“Really?” Derek frowns.

“Are you kidding?" He leans back against the front of the Jeep, closer to Derek than before. "Dad knows what you’ve been through, knows you didn’t kill Laura. He’s been asking about you, you know. Looked like he’d go get you yourself when I told him you were staying at the house. Probably will if you won’t move in with us.” 

“I can afford a place to stay.”

“Yeah, but both you and I know you’ll squat to keep people off your trail.” He chuckles to himself. “We have a guest room. You’ll be safer in the sheriff’s house than anywhere else in this county.”

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

"Good."

Derek looks out over Beacon Hills. They’re both tired, worn down from too little sleep and too much fighting for their lives. But Kate Argent is locked up indefinitely and Peter’s ashes are in a small ornate jar in the family mausoleum, and Derek has the promise of a real bed under a roof without holes in it, in the company of people who care about his well-being. Their losses aside, it could have ended far worse. Far, far worse.

 “So if I’d ask for the bite, would you do it?” Stiles blindsides him with. But then on the other hand, he would have asked Stiles himself, in due time.

“Yeah,” Derek admits.

“Would that make us pack?” And oh how the hopefulness in Stiles' scent makes something warm rush through his veins. His instincts are stronger now, more insistent. 

“Yeah.” 

“And if I don’t ask for it?” At this, Derek turns to look at him fully. He hadn't realised how close Stiles was standing. It feels right, safe somehow, whatever's between them.

“Still pack, if you want to.” 

“Okay. Yeah, I’m in,” Stiles says without hesitation. To which one, Derek’s not sure, but he finds he’s happy with it either way.


End file.
